<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dead Man's Hand by Amity Beaumont (WithoutATracer)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056261">Dead Man's Hand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithoutATracer/pseuds/Amity%20Beaumont'>Amity Beaumont (WithoutATracer)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Baggage, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, I'm bad at tags but I'll add them as I go, M/M, Past Lives, Past Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:47:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056261</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithoutATracer/pseuds/Amity%20Beaumont</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The past continues to haunt Husk's dreams, seemingly no matter what he does. All he wants is to move on, but he has far too many memories plaguing him.<br/>---<br/>I wanted an excuse to write out past headcanons for Husk and here we are. If all goes well, you're in for a ride because I thought up far too much for good ol' Husker.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angel Dust/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dead Man's Hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, and welcome to my first multi-chapter fic for Hazbin Hotel! As with most of my content odds are, updates will be SUPER sporadic as my motivation is painfully flighty, but I'm looking forward to writing this. Hopefully, I can make everyone proud in the long run.</p>
<p>Also, if they apply down the line I WILL update archive warnings.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sounds and lights of the casino were considered overwhelming for many of the uninitiated around these parts. The idle chatter seemed to echo from all corners of the room, not to mention the clashing of chips and the ringing of some of the old fashioned machines mixed with music emanating from the old jukebox down at the end of the bar. However, the young boy seated at the counter had grown all my numb to it - he was raised here, and even at the age of eight he had learned to wash out and ignore the cacophony of sound. Occasionally, he felt his eyes wander to some of the crowded tables or even the colorful machines - but he had learned a while ago not to go sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. This was an adult’s world - he was just given the privilege of peeking in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Niall? Sweetie?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The boy jolted, his attention quickly swiveling back behind the counter to meet the lovely blue-grey eyes of his mother. Sometimes he wished he had her eyes instead of his father’s. At the very least though, he had her darker brown hair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah mama?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You seemed a little out of it. Are you okay sweetheart?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Caring. She was always so caring. He wanted to be like her so badly when he got older. He wanted to make her proud to call him her son. A small smile edged on his lips as he nodded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m okay. Just thinking.” A small pause, before he rested his elbow on the counter and his cheek against his palm. “When do you think dad will let me try the slots?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her smile faltered ever so slightly, a small sense of worry gleaming in her eyes as she gently prodded at his wrist. He caught the hint, adjusting himself to rest his hands back on his lap and off the counter.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know how he feels about that, Niall. That’s why we play cards together, remember?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, mama… I know.” He mumbled softly, a frown crossing his features, “I just wanna try and play like the customers do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two were silent for a moment as Niall’s mother closed her eyes, quietly contemplating something that Niall couldn’t begin to guess. He could tell just how deep in thought she was - she always scrunched her brow in the same way it was now when she was, after all. Finally, her eyes opened, and he immediately saw the playful twinkle in them as she grinned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How about this? When your dad goes on some of his trips, I’ll teach you how to play some </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> card games. Just like some of the customers do at the other tables.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t, mama. I don’t have the money.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t need money between us, sweetie. I’ll just teach you how to play and we can have some friendly games. Then when you’re older, you’ll be able to play for yourself. How does that sound?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Excitement filled him immediately and he nodded with just as much energy as he felt. The idea of playing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>adult</span>
  </em>
  <span> card games filled him with a sense of pride he couldn’t even begin to explain. He wanted to make her so proud - and maybe, just maybe, if he could get a good hold of how to play… Maybe he could somehow even make his father just a little proud, too. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, why don’t you go outside and play, Niall? It’s too nice out for you to stay cooped up in here all day. Why don’t you go see if you can find Conan or Treasa? I’m sure they’re running around in town, don’t you think? Probably looking for you, I’d say.” She reached out to lightly pat her son’s head, gently petting over his hair as she did so. He hummed softly in thought for a moment - not because he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go out and play, but he really liked to spend time with his mother. His father always made comments about it. Comments he really, really didn’t like.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Niall?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, he had been too deep in his thoughts. He didn’t even fully realize he had forgotten to answer. The young brunette finally gave a small, slow nod, feeling just a bit more at ease from his mother’s reassuring smile. He finally moved to hop off the bar stool, going around the counter so he could hug his mother before he finally pulled back - just in time for her to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. He grinned at her and finally headed out the door, excited to see what his friends might be up to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<span>Husk awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright at the counter. His eyes gleamed in the darkness as he quickly looked around, trying to readjust to his surroundings. No one was around - he was alone in the lobby.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was… alone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A low, rough sigh escaped his lips. His throat felt dry, his mind fuzzy, and his back ached from the poor position he had been in while he slept. He felt so tired. A quick glance at the clock told him he had barely slept more than an hour or so. His ears twitched back ever so slightly as he grabbed at the still open bottle next time him, taking a deep drink without any form of hesitation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>These dreams always came to him. Dreams of a past he wished he could forget. Dreams that could do nothing for him now, where he was. He felt his claws dig into his palm ever so slightly - he was holding the bottle far too hard to be comfortable, and he set it down again while he let the burn of the alcohol wake him up a bit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hopefully, it would help him forget. That’s what he told himself anyway. Hopefully, it would help him forget and move on. That’s all he wanted to happen, at this point.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, it never did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He rubbed at his temples, knowing that he should technically try and get some proper sleep in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>proper</span>
  </em>
  <span> place, but knowing that even if he did try it wouldn’t come to him. He was far too restless now, and far too eager to shove those dreams far into the recesses of his mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No. For now, he would focus on cleaning up the bar. He didn’t want to sleep until he was either too exhausted or too damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>drunk</span>
  </em>
  <span> to dream. With a sigh, he grabbed a clean rag and began his nightly cleaning routine. After all…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s gonna be a long fuckin’ night.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! In case you want to listen to the Husk playlist I made/am working on that I use for inspiration while writing for him, I'll leave the link for it!</p>
<p>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0Ap8ufPKy7updgJRWLVQE4?si=UTbdNWvSSfyEGk79jpFPmA</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>